


Missing Pieces

by Wolfsbanedraft



Category: Hannibal (TV), Hannibal Lecter Series - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Angst, Blood and Gore, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Manipulation, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Eventual Happy Ending, F/M, Partner Betrayal, Past Rape/Non-con, Rape/Non-con Elements, Secret Crush, Secret Soulmates, Soulmate-Identifying Marks, Soulmates, non sexual hannigraham
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-12
Updated: 2019-05-11
Packaged: 2020-03-01 09:04:05
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,240
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18797227
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wolfsbanedraft/pseuds/Wolfsbanedraft
Summary: From the mark on your shoulder you knew you had a soulmate. You just never expected you'd meet them like this. Or that there would be two of them.Most would find it a blessing, having two handsome men vying for your affection, but when you throw murder, manipulation, and cannibalism into the mix. . . It becomes a little less desirable.Follow our heroine, the soft-core psychopath, as she tries to return some sort of balance to this new life. (Without dying in the process.)





	Missing Pieces

You learned early on that you were different. You had emotions, but they were easily controlled and toppled entirely by your morbid curiosity. How would they react if I did this, what would happen if I said that. . . etc etc. A softcore-psychopath, that’s what you liked to call yourself. You were a mystery wrapped in an enigma, covered in Burberry. 

 

Life bounced you around and you learned from it. You found you had a talent for lying that lead you into law school, with a double major in Criminal Justice + Cognitive Psychology and Psycholinguistics. . . Which lead you right into the path of the FBI.

 

And that is why you were in Maryland, sitting in an empty conference room, waiting for Jack Crawford. The case he had called you about was especially interesting, missing organs, a dead FBI trainee, and a two year hiatus. The  _ Chesapeake Ripper _ , a distant memory from your early days as a lawyer. Many families never found peace so the reopening of the case was a hot topic in and outside of law enforcement. The soft swish of the door signaled the entrance of Jack and the end of your daydreaming.

 

“It’s been a while, Jack.” You greeted him with a smile far too bright for this situation. “Want to tell me what I’m doing here?”

 

“In a moment. We’re still waiting on two more.”

 

You wrinkled your nose. “More headshrinks, huh?”

 

“You could say that.” He chuckled. “Doctor Lecter and special investigator Will Graham.” He noticed how you perked up when he said the last name. “Yes, the empathetic one.” 

 

You had heard of Will Graham before. Jack had called you to ask a few questions about a killer’s habits a while back and he’d mentioned Will. Jack told you how he could put himself in the mind of the killer like no one else. You may or may not have done some serious googling after that conversation.

 

Again your trail of thought was interrupted by that damn door opening.

 

A wolf in a field of sheep can smell one of its own immediately. And just like your mammalian counterpart you were instantly drawn to the man who walked  in.

 

“(Y/N) this is Dr. Hannibal Lecter, he’s another consultant we work with.” Jack’s words faded as your eyes locked onto the doctor’s. Doctor Lecter was a tall man with dark blonde hair. The light of the room glinted sliver off of it. His eyes were dark and his lips not quite a frown, not quite a pout. The pressed suit he was wearing was the icing on the cake.

 

He was staring back at you, was he admiring you the same way you had him? The weight of his gaze coated your entire being. Your mind was searching for a time you had felt like this before. Finding nothing.

 

Hannibal was feeling the exact same way. The logical side of him saw you as you were. Late twenties, early thirties, (H/C) hair styled precisely casual. You weren’t attractive but you weren’t a model either. He saw all this, but he couldn’t process it. Hannibal was stuck on the painful way his soulmark throbbed when he saw you. The way you absently rubbed at your shoulder confirmed his suspicions. 

 

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, miss. . .”

 

“Oh- (Y/N), It’s nice to meet you too.” You stood and shook their hand before sitting back down. Hannibal sat across from you. You tore your eyes away from him. “Are we still waiting for Mr. Graham?”

 

“No, he said he’d meet us at the crime scene. He seems to have ‘woken up on the wrong side of the bed’, as they say.” Lecter piped up.

 

Jack huffed. “Well I suppose there’s no real reason for us to sit around here, then. Come on, I’ll brief you on the way, (Y/N).”

 

The car ride was. . . Excruciating. Interesting. Trying. Pick an adjective. You didn’t know if you were being conceited or if the good doctor’s eyes had really not left you for the entire trip. In the end you were ferried to Baltimore State Hospital for the Criminally Insane. A long name for a haunted looking building. 

 

You looked at him, puzzled. Your mark burned for the second time today. Will’s eyes widened as he sucked in a breath. 

 

Hannibal placed a hand on your back. “Let me introduce you. (Y/N) this is Will Graham.” 

 

“Nice to meet you.” You smiled and held out your hand. The man’s eyes flickered to yours then to your hand, he moved as if to take it but stopped himself.

 

“Likewise.” Responded Will, giving you a nervous smile.

 

Hannibal guided you into the building, the crime scene was in the medical ward. Unfortunately for the nurse it was full of sharp objects. The three of you split into different directions, you focused on the minutiae details. At least, until you got distracted. It was hard to split your attention between them. Will was captivating, you could watch his blue eyes all day. But Hannibal had already made his mark on you. The subtle way he related to the killer. The air of appreciation of the killer’s handiwork. 

 

The Chesapeake Ripper was supposed to be an expert showman. Competent in his field. A man like Hannibal would easily relate to that.

 

Maybe it was the way you found yourself drawn to him, your soulmark throbbing each moment you thought of him. Or maybe it was simply your compulsive curiosity winning out over common sense once again. Either way you followed him that night to a doctor’s office on the southern edge of Baltimore. Years of experience let you tail him without getting caught. Although, you had to do a double-take after he parked his car. He was dressed in the same suit as before only this time he was wearing some sort of plastic outer layer. On anyone else it would have looked supremely stupid. But everything about him screamed practiced precision. Mastery. He entered the building and prowled towards his destination, unaware of your soft footsteps behind him.

 

You had your back pressed against the wall of the hallway, staying still till you knew it was safe to follow. The silence of the room was broken by a series of soft thuds, then gagging, gurgling. Curiosity won again and you peeked into the open door. Hannibal was looming over a man’s body. Or what was left of it. What wasn’t being sliced open was being carefully removed and placed in a cooler you hadn’t noticed before. You didn’t even realize you were walking towards him until it was too late.

 

Hannibal stopped. When he turned back to you all you could think of was how there wasn’t a hair out of place. If it wasn’t for the blood covering his plastic suit he’d look exactly how he did when you met him that morning.

 

“I’m surprised I didn’t see you tailing me,” He mused, shark-like eyes gleaming.

 

You didn’t move an inch.

He noticed. 

 

“You’re remarkably. . . Calm. When stumbling upon a colleague killing someone most would be afraid.”

 

“I. . . Can’t seem to muster that up right now.”

 

“Then what are you feeling?”

 

“Curious.”

 

“Then we have something in common.” He paused. Placing the knife down. “That and, I’m guessing, an ache on your right shoulder.”

 

Hannibal regarded you once more then held out his hand. 

 

“Care to join me for dinner?”


End file.
